


A Million Shadows [5/10]

by balthesar



Series: A Million Shadows [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balthesar/pseuds/balthesar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I don't know, Owen,' Gwen replied. 'You seem like you could use a little girl power in your life.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Shadows [5/10]

The club was crowded, flashing lights pulsing and sweeping over a moving crowd. Toshiko leaned back against the bar, watching the dancers, watching out for short blonde hair and a devil-may-care smirk. Mary had suggested they meet at the club, but Toshiko hadn't been out clubbing in a long time -- not since university, actually. Toshiko had protested initially -- she was too old for that bollocks -- but Mary had just teased her until she'd agreed. She'd dressed in simple basic black, done her hair, and arrived a little early. Whenever possible, Toshiko liked having a grip on her surroundings before any 'incident'. Plus the view wasn't bad, she reflected, sipping her apple martini; the music was a little loud, but she wasn't _too_ old and most of the girls were pretty and energetic.

Finally Mary emerged from the shifting throng, swaggering. Of course _she_ would be the sort to wear leather trousers, Toshiko thought. The black of the leather contrasted nicely with her backless turquoise top. Toshiko raised her eyebrows a little when she realized that 'backless' also meant 'bra-less'. ... _How bad an idea could another shag really be, even if she were an alien?_ Mary grinned.

"Miss me?" She gave Toshiko a brief kiss, then licked her own lips thoughtfully. "Green apple?"

"Of course." Toshiko couldn't help but smile.

Mary leaned her forearms on the bar and waited to be noticed by the bartender. "You look sexy," she commented with a playful leer, glancing back at Toshiko. The bartender, an athletic-looking girl in her mid-twenties and a mesh shirt, appeared. "Oh, uh-- J.D. and Coke for me-- Tosh, same thing?" Toshiko nodded quickly. "--And another apple martini for her."

Mary turned around and leaned back on the bar, her back arched lasciviously and her hip nearly touching Toshiko's. Pulling the telepathic shell pendant from her pocket, Toshiko announced, "You left this at my flat." She watched Mary for any sign of recognition, dismay or worry.

"Huh," Mary replied, her expression mildly but neutrally surprised. She ran a finger over the shell without taking it from Toshiko's hand. "I hadn't even realised." She shrugged. "Keep it."

"But-- I mean, don't _you_ want it back?" Surprise was very evident on Toshiko's face.

Mary shook her head. "I obviously didn't miss it. Besides, if you don't want it, you can just share it with your team. Get the kudos you deserve."

Toshiko frowned as Mary pressed a martini into her free hand. "... Why would they care?" So Mary _did_ know what the pendant did! But how did she ever manage to get her hands on it in the first place?

Sipping her own drink, Mary replied, "Doesn't Torchwood deal with all that X-Files stuff? Aliens and crop circles and UFOs?"

"I never told you about Torchwood...!" Toshiko replied in a low hiss.

Mary laughed a little, nonchalantly. "Of course you did. Last time. When I was in your flat." She leaned in with a tiny cat smile and nipped at Toshiko's neck. Toshiko breathed in sharply. "Don't worry." Mary paused for another sip. "Didn't tell anyone."

... Maybe she had. Some of that evening had ended up fuzzy the next morning, and it wasn't as if Torchwood was really succeeding at the whole 'secret' part of 'secret ops'. At least it was _possible_ Toshiko might have _maybe_ mentioned the name, _perhaps_ made a joke or two about flying saucers or running Linux on a Foamasi med-scanner, _might_ have said something about being a rather unappreciated Q instead of some vintage-dressing Bond.

"Good," Toshiko decided with a nod. The paranoia was really starting to rub off on her, wasn't it? She sipped her martini and set it down on the bar. "So where'd you get it?" she asked with renewed interest.

"You'll never believe me," Mary demurred playfully.

"Try me."

Mary grinned triumphantly. "Paid five quid for it in a tiny antique shop in Birmingham. I just thought it was pretty. Didn't have a clue what it did until I put it on."

"And then?" Toshiko asked, intent with curiosity.

"Same as you, I bet," Mary said dismissively, finishing her drink. "Could hear everything everyone was thinking. Turns out my landlady doesn't like me so much. What a shocker."

Toshiko shared a conspiratorial grin. "This woman I work with, she thinks I'm secretly shagging our receptionist, a young bloke who always wears a posh suit and keeps to himself. Maybe I should bring you in to talk to them, just to prove it's not him." She laughed and sipped her martini.

"Assuming the thought that you're shagging a woman wouldn't blow their little minds."

With a snort, Toshiko shook her head. How could anything she got up to possibly compare with Jack's cavalcade of perversity? "No, definitely not."

Mary took her hand and started to pull her towards the packed dance floor. "Come on, let's dance. And don't say 'no'." Toshiko laughed and allowed herself to be led into the crowd.

***

Jack was sitting at his desk, checking his email, his personal ads and changing a few server preferences when his cell rang. He took a sip of coffee, letting it ring a few times. Anyone who seriously wanted to talk to him this early in the morning would perservere and wait; anyone who was going to waste his time would get frustrated and hang up. Ianto's coffee was particularly good: 'black as hell, strong as death, sweet as love,' as he'd heard decades ago, running a con in Ankara. Sometimes he got a Look from Ianto regarding the two or three spoons of sugar he often dumped into his coffee, as though he were defiling something sacred, but he'd never forgotten his first taste of Turkish coffee.

His phone kept ringing. Important then, at least to the caller. Importance could be so relative in the early morning.

"Hello?"

Toshiko was propped up on her elbow in bed, Mary lazily running her fingertips down her back. Toshiko tucked the raspberry sheets up under her arms and shifted her weight a little. "Jack? It's me, Toshiko."

"It's early, Tosh."

"Yes, well, I know--" Toshiko glanced over her shoulder, smiling, and batted Mary's hand away from her arse. "But it's just that I acquired this artefact--"

"They're called dildos. Everyone has one."

" _Jack_ , I'm serious. I met someone who's willing to donate a piece of tech they scavenged. I've never seen anything like it before." The intensity of her voice piqued Jack's interest.

He took another sip of coffee. "Well, what the hell is it?"

"It's a-- like I said, I'm not quite sure. It's a small, transportable device that allows you to hear other people's thoughts."

Jack frowned. "Telepathy?"

Toshiko rolled over in response to Mary's increasingly bold hands, thwapping her with her own pillow. Mary snickered.

"... Is this a bad time? You can call back."

"No, no-- and I'm certain. I did a bit of research." Now for the gambit: Jack would either be impressed at Toshiko's initiative or furious that she didn't immediately disclose the discovery.

Now for the gambit, Mary thought. She'd been so meticulous: surreptitiously collecting all the information she could on Torchwood and its operatives; carefully selecting the one she could most easily manipulate; gambling that Tosh would find the necklace, that she'd try it, that she'd talk to Mary before her team.

"I think bringing her in for a supplementary interview would be an asset to the investigation." Toshiko practically held her breath in anticipation of Jack's response.

He considered, taking a brain-stimulating gulp of coffee. At the very least, it would be worth finding out who was picking up space debris and donating it to a good cause, and there were always the amnesia pills to clean up human messes and cells for alien ones. "Alright. Bring her in this morning. Call me if there's any issues. ... Oh, and Tosh?"

"Yes?" He had said yes? He had said yes!

"Don't use the damn thing again."

***

Jack was strolling out of the kitchenette when Gwen and Owen arrived, chatting and bickering.

"As if _that_ isn't compensation," Gwen said, her voice pitched to carry, as they passed the barred doors to the Hub. "I'm just shocked it's not a Ferrari."

"Look," Owen replied firmly, gesturing with his hands, "it's a quality car. It doesn't say anything about my sex life or the size of my cock, it says I like a car that can hit sixty in under thirty seconds and doesn't look like some Midlands housewife's used Swedish beater."

"Uh huh," Gwen said with a teasing smirk.

Owen slung his leather jacket over the back of his chair, glanced at his computer and scoffed. "Alright, alright. Who was it?" he asked the entire Hub loudly.

Gwen tucked her bag under her desk. "What is it?" She came over and leaned over his shoulder.

" _That._ " Owen pointed at his monitor.

Gwen couldn't stop snickering. The screensaver was active, flashing through a series of pictures -- Baby, Sporty, Posh, Scary, Ginger -- ending with a Spice Girls publicity shot. Over the group pose, SPICE UP YOUR LIFE!! blinked rapidly in eye-burning pink and orange block letters.

"Bloody good thing I'm not epileptic," he muttered, disabling the screensaver.

"I don't know, Owen," Gwen replied between little cackling laughs. "You seem like you could use a little _girl power_ in your life, judging from your car."

He sat, spun his chair around and gave her a look. "That an offer, sweetheart?"

Gwen grinned, half-walking, half-dancing back to her station. "'Tell me what you want, what you really, really want.'"

"Right now, I'd settle for silence, thanks."

She just laughed.


End file.
